


Live A Little

by DeathBelle



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Title: Things You Shouldn't Do On A Motorcycle, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, Glove Kink, M/M, PWP, Semi Public Sex, Tattoos and Piercings, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:27:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23579167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathBelle/pseuds/DeathBelle
Summary: Sakusa's first mistake is getting on the motorcycle.The second is his inability to walk away from Atsumu.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 38
Kudos: 1039
Collections: SakuAtsu Week 2020





	Live A Little

**Author's Note:**

  * For [painpackerrisingsun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/painpackerrisingsun/gifts).
  * Translation into Русский available: [Почувствуй жизнь](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26081905) by [Terquedad](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terquedad/pseuds/Terquedad)



> This technically goes along with the Shades of Ink AU but it can be read as a standalone, too. 
> 
> Sakuatsu Week Day 5 - Trust

It had started out innocently, for the most part. Atsumu had shown up in the late evening, more windswept than usual, with a smile that would have brought a weaker man to his knees. He’d propped himself up on the counter, pushed his hair back, and said, “Hey, wanna see my new motorcycle?”

Sakusa had only stared at him, unimpressed, because Atsumu was joking. He must have been joking, because even Atsumu wasn’t that stupid.

Five minutes later, Sakusa learned not to underestimate Atsumu’s stupidity.

The bike was sleek and mean, cherry bomb red with wheels that shone steely black under the street lights. It sat idly in front of Sakusa’s shop, but he just knew it was loud and obnoxious; much like Atsumu, whose grin was untamable as he waited for a reaction.

“This is the most pretentious waste of money I’ve ever seen,” said Sakusa flatly.

“Sure it is,” agreed Atsumu. He pushed a helmet at Sakusa and patted the seat. “Hop on, I’ll take you for a spin.”

“I would literally rather die.”

Half an hour later, after Atsumu’s needling finally got to him and Sakusa had made the terrible decision to trust him, he wondered if he was, in fact, about to die.

“Slow down, slow down,  _ slow the fuck down _ ,” he chanted, unsure if Atsumu could even hear him over the insufferable roar of the engine. If he could, he was doing a fantastic job of ignoring Sakusa in favor of going faster.

He cut a turn so quickly that the world tilted and Sakusa clamped his arms tighter around Atsumu’s waist, tucking his face against Atsumu’s shoulder so he didn’t have to see the blur of the street beneath them.

Atsumu laughed, bright and loud in a way that would have been beautiful if Sakusa wasn’t waiting for death to take him.

“You’re fine, Omi!” shouted Atsumu, patting Sakusa’s arm, probably grinning in the most infuriating way. 

“Don’t let go of it,” snapped Sakusa, the words muffled into Atsumu’s shoulder. 

It seemed Atsumu still heard him because he laughed again. He caught the hand grip and twisted the throttle, and Sakusa clenched his jaw as the bike surged forward.

They only drove a few blocks, making a big loop around the shop before circling back. To Sakusa, it felt as if they’d navigated the entire city. He sucked in a breath as the bike slowed, and it felt like the first air he’d tasted since they’d taken off.

Atsumu steered them into the narrow alley beside the shop, sheltered by close walls and the mask of moonlight. The roar of the bike was louder, echoing in the enclosed space, until Atsumu killed the engine and it was suddenly so quiet that Sakusa’s ears were ringing.

Sakusa was off of the bike immediately, fumbling at his helmet with numb fingers, ripping it off and tossing it aside. It bounced on the pavement. “Fuck you, Miya.”

“What’s wrong?” asked Atsumu, grinning back at him. He peeled off his own helmet and put it down more carefully before engaging the bike’s kickstand. His hair was a disaster. “You can’t say that wasn’t fun.”

“That wasn’t fun.”

“C’mon, live a little, Omi.” Atsumu stood too, but only to flip around and sit backward on the seat, leaning back against the fuel tank and looking up at Sakusa with the exact sort of smugness that made Sakusa want to slap him and kiss him at the same time. “You felt the rush of it, right? Feels like flying.”

“I think you mean _dying_.”

Atsumu laughed and leaned more comfortably into his sprawl, the heel of one boot propped on the exhaust pipe. “Feels like livin’. Wanna go another round?”

“Not on your life, Miya.”

Atsumu’s grin was unpunctured by the refusal. His eyes were bright even in the dark alley and the collar of his jacket was popped up to frame his jaw. Sakusa barely saw the hint of tattoos painting the sides of his neck, wouldn’t have noticed them at all if he hadn’t explored them himself with his hands and his mouth. One of Atsumu’s knees fell further aside, toes scraping the pavement, spreading his legs in an obvious invitation.

Sakusa should have turned it down, to make a point if nothing else.

But it had been a lie when he’d denied feeling the rush of the ride, even if that rush had only been adrenaline from a near-death experience. He felt it in his gut, in his fingertips when he brushed them over Atsumu’s knee, in his chest when Atsumu’s grin sharpened into something less teasing. 

Atsumu was drunk on confidence and Sakusa wanted to kiss that grin right off of his face.

Sakusa leaned over him, braced a hand on the bike, and let more of his weight rest on it when he was sure it would hold. Atsumu kissed him with an open mouth, his breath hot, a hand curling in the front of Sakusa’s shirt to hold him there. Atsumu’s tongue pushed through Sakusa’s lips and he tasted like neon lights blurring at the edges of Sakusa’s vision, like the thrill of the wind, like something wild and familiar. 

Sakusa rested a hand against Atsumu’s chest, dragged it lower, and pressed it between Atsumu’s spread legs. Atsumu exhaled, breathy, and pushed up against his hand. 

“You’re a freak,” said Sakusa, their breaths mingling.

Atsumu grinned. Sakusa felt the curve of it against his own mouth. “You like it, Omi-Omi.”

Sakusa didn’t argue. He straddled the bike and sat facing Atsumu, hooking one of Atsumu’s knees over his own to make space. He leaned in, and Atsumu pushed himself upright to meet him. The kiss was a little messy, a little needy, and Sakusa rubbed a hand over the front of Atsumu’s pants again. Atsumu groaned into his mouth, low and gritty.

Sakusa pulled back and turned his face away when Atsumu tried to chase him. Atsumu mouthed at his jaw instead, and Sakusa tried to fight the little thrill that raced down his spine. “My apartment is literally right there.”

Atsumu hummed, but didn’t otherwise acknowledge that. He certainly didn’t seem like he intended to get off of the bike and walk over. One of his hands slipped underneath Sakusa’s shirt, but he withdrew and sat back, tugging off one of his gloves. They were black leather, and Sakusa would have bet a sizable sum of money that Atsumu had bought them earlier that day to match his new motorcycle aesthetic.

Atsumu grinned, held Sakusa’s stare as he caught the edge of the other glove in his teeth and slowly peeled it off. His hand found its way into Sakusa’s shirt again, warm and a little clammy. 

“This might be better than ridin’ it around,” said Atsumu, leaning close again. “Better view, at least.”

“Anyone who walks by and looks this way will certainly get a view,” said Sakusa.

Atsumu glanced at the mouth of the alley, and when he looked back, his eyes were a little darker. “Lucky them.”

Sakusa should’ve walked away. Atsumu would follow; he always did. They could go upstairs and do this in the privacy of Sakusa’s bed.

But Sakusa wasn’t sure he could deny Atsumu anything when he looked like that, with dark eyes and a smug smile and his erection straining against Sakusa’s hand. Sakusa had found that he indulged Atsumu far too often, and he was about to do it again.

Sakusa shoved a hand against Atsumu’s chest, pushing him back against the fuel tank. Atsumu went eagerly, lounging with his legs spread wide, raising his hips as Sakusa pulled at the button of his jeans. Sakusa unzipped them, got his fingers in the edges, and yanked them down. They caught tight just below Atsumu’s ass, trapped at his thighs, but it was far enough to free his cock. It was hard and flushed, and Sakusa glanced at the street. It was empty.

“A little paranoid, Omi?” teased Atsumu, bracing a foot and rolling his hips up for show. “Afraid someone’s gonna see us and try to take me away from you?”

“I’d let them have you,” said Sakusa. “They’d be doing me a favor.”

Atsumu’s grin grew wider. “You’re fulla shit.”

Sakusa touched his thumb just below the head of Atsumu’s dick, where the metal bar was pierced through. Atsumu twitched. “I think you’d like it if someone saw,” said Sakusa. “Seems like something you’d be into. You’re so damn full of yourself.”

“I’d rather be full of you.”

“If you ever repeat that, I’ll never speak to you again.”

“C’mon, that was clever.”

Sakusa gave him a long, slow stroke and then let go. “Lube?” He almost hoped Atsumu didn’t have any. It would be a perfect excuse to go upstairs and not come down again.

But Atsumu fumbled at the pocket of his jacket, as if he’d been prepared for this exact situation. Maybe he had been. Sakusa often felt like Atsumu maneuvered them into suspiciously convenient circumstances such as this. 

Sakusa found he didn’t mind, not really.

“Here,” said Atsumu, offering it in an extended hand as he slouched back again. 

Sakusa didn’t take it.

“Oh, right,” said Atsumu. “You don’t have to touch the lube. I can like, jerk myself off and you can-”

Sakusa snatched the leather gloves from Atsumu’s other hand, feeling the texture of them under his fingertips before sliding them on. Atsumu’s voice fractured into silence, his eyes wide and dark as he watched.

Sakusa held out a gloved hand, palm up. He didn’t give an instruction, but he didn’t need to.

Atsumu broke open the lube, so hastily that it was almost clumsy. He drizzled some into Sakusa’s hand, and Sakusa curled his fingers to spread it. Atsumu’s dick twitched, untouched.

“Freak,” murmured Sakusa, as he wrapped a hand around Atsumu’s cock.

Atsumu hissed a breath between his teeth, head tilting back, hips bucking. He slipped a little and grabbed the hand grip by his head for balance. A moan rolled between them, low and sweet and quiet enough that Sakusa didn’t worry about anyone overhearing. 

Sakusa pumped Atsumu’s cock slowly, brushing his thumb over the head in the way Atsumu liked best. He pushed Atsumu’s shirt up with his other hand, exposing his stomach, trailing gloved fingers in an aimless pattern on his skin. 

Atsumu looked good like that, sprawled and willing and flushed with shadows. He was gorgeous, but Sakusa didn’t say it. Atsumu’s ego didn’t need that kind of boost.

Sakusa leaned over him, feet planted on the ground for stability, fist moving more quickly. His other hand traveled higher, flicking at one of Atsumu’s nipple piercings, making him shudder.

“Would you like it,” said Sakusa, “if someone came by and saw you like this? Lying back with your dick out, so close to coming they could see it on your face.” Sakusa pinched the piercing between his fingers, tugged until Atsumu’s cock jumped in his hand. “I think you’d get off, just knowing someone was watching you.”

“ _ Fuck _ , Omi.” Atsumu sank a hand into his own hair, arched up as Sakusa pumped him harder. “Shit… Who knew you could be so fuckin’ filthy?”

“You’re the one who’s filthy,” said Sakusa, his voice a little sharper, wrist a little quicker. “Turned on by someone seeing how bad you want it. Why’s that, Miya? You like showing someone what they can’t have?”

Atsumu made a little choked noise. Sakusa reached up to cup Atsumu’s jaw, pressed a gloved thumb against his bottom lip. Atsumu bit down on it, lightly, and a pulse of heat went straight to Sakusa’s dick.

“Because they can’t,” said Sakusa, working Atsumu’s cock, the wet squelch of lube loud in the vacant alley. “No one else can have you. Only me.”

Atsumu sucked in a breath, his body going taut. His eyes squeezed closed and he moaned; loud, unrestrained, husky in a way that made Sakusa want to taste the tenor of it in Atsumu’s mouth. 

Atsumu came, and as he sprayed across Sakusa’s fingers, his voice peaked louder. Sakusa pressed a gloved hand over Atsumu’s mouth, muffling the sound, and sliced a glance at the street. It was still empty.

Atsumu fucked up into his hand and Sakusa worked him through it, slowing after the last weak spray of come. He grazed a thumb along the length of Atsumu’s cock and it gave a weak twitch. 

Atsumu spoke, muted by Sakusa’s hand. He peeled it away, and Atsumu repeated, “Holy fuck, Omi.”

Sakusa sat back and stared down at the glove, dripping with Atsumu’s come. He peeled it off carefully and dropped it inside-out on Atsumu’s chest. The other glove followed, and Sakusa stood. His pants were somewhat uncomfortable. “I’m going upstairs. Make yourself look a little less like you just got fucked and meet me up there.”

Atsumu snorted a laugh as he sat up. He yanked his shirt down over the mess on his stomach and Sakusa suppressed a cringe. “You’d just leave me down here like this?”

“Yes. We have to walk out front to get into the shop. No one is going to see me with you while you look like  _ that _ .”

Atsumu just grinned. He reached out, slowly, and brushed his knuckles over the front of Sakusa’s jeans. “Feels like you don’t have much of a problem with it, Omi-Omi.”

“Just get yourself together and come upstairs.”

“Can I suck your dick when I get up there?”

Sakusa eyed him as he walked away. “Maybe.” 

Atsumu laughed, and Sakusa spared one last look at him before slipping out of the alley. Atsumu’s hair was a mess, come was soaking into his shirt, and his cock was still out, even as he struggled to yank his jeans back on. He looked utterly debauched.

Sakusa stepped into his shop and adjusted himself in his pants as he headed for the stairs.

Maybe the motorcycle hadn’t been Atsumu’s worst idea after all.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Things You Shouldn't Do On A Motorcycle](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26218306) by [fandom Haikyuu Captains 2020 (Haikyuu_Fandom_Kombat)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Haikyuu_Fandom_Kombat/pseuds/fandom%20Haikyuu%20Captains%202020)




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